Love Me Not
by Untitled Playlist
Summary: Guilt can be a powerful weapon that works against the mind. When a traumatizing decision is made a Father and Daughter are left to fend for themselves without their most beloved person. Struggling without her is hard, doing it alone is even harder.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** This is my first Furuba fanfiction and to be honest, I'm a little nervous. The theme is dark compared to the happy go lucky feeling of the anime. I know that not all the moments in Fruits Basket are happy, but the majority are. The characters try to keep their spirits up and I admire that. Anyway, here's the prologue, I hope you enjoy it but be fore warned…it isn't exactly happy Lol. Please Read and Review, ENJOY!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters presented in Furuba, so don't think that I am a thieving little author because I'm not…hopefully. On the other hand Risika is my character and may not be used in any other story without my consent, so don't be afraid to ask if you want to use her…even though I doubt you will.

* * *

They thought it was an accident, something that occurred without a motive, without an idea in hand. But they were wrong.

It was something that I wanted to happen, something that I thought needed to happen so that my child, my daughter could live a normal life.

It was my fault she was brought into this world, my fault that she was born into this family. I was so stupid, I didn't follow my plan, I didn't do what was asked of me, I didn't keep my promise.

I told her that I would come back, I promised her that she would see me in two days, that mommy would bring back with her a surprise. She was glowing, smiling up at me like I was the greatest person on this planet, when I wasn't.

So I took her into my arms and kissed her cheek, her peals of laughter bringing tears to my eyes but I blinked them back. I placed one last kiss on her forehead and held onto her tiny hand. I stood and smiled up at my husband and kissed him gently.

"Call me if anything" he said "We'll drive right up there if anything goes wrong, alright?"

I nodded and kissed him again "Will do"

He grabbed our daughter's hand and gently pulled her back from the car as I got in. She stood by his side, smiling brightly at me and waved energetically. The small stuffed rabbit Momiji gave her shaking violently in her grasp. I watched as she looked up at her father and asked him something that I couldn't hear.

He smiled and nodded. He had most likely responded with something she liked because she broke out into laughter and rubbed her rosy cheek against the back of his hand, the closest she would ever be able to come to hugging her father.

I rolled down the window and blew kisses as the car pulled away "I LOVE YOU!" I screamed as the car turned a corner and I settled back into my seat, resting my head on the window.

"Attached huh?" the driver asked and I nodded.

"You have no idea" I muttered and shut my eyes. That was the last time that I would ever see my little girl, my little angel, my guilty conscience.

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I made my death look like an accident. All I simply did was re-visit that one hot spring, the one that made my head swim and my vision blur. And throughout the whole ordeal, throughout the entire act of fainting, slipping under the water and dying, all I could think about was that sweet intoxicating laughter, and how it made me scream with guilt. I'm sorry.

It was an hour and a half before the hostess came looking for me, and she screamed when she found me. Attendants came running to the scene and the police and ambulance were called. I was lifted from the water and placed on my back, a woman had tried to resuscitate me, but it was too late, I was already gone.

When the police finally arrived everything was decided. They assumed I hadn't seen the sign posted above the hot spring stating that it caused dizziness. The rest didn't need to be guessed. Suicide wasn't even considered.

My husband and child were to be notified of my death immediately, along with any other family members that I had remaining, which were none; but they would find that out later.

A patrol car was sent to my house and finally arrived at 1:20 in the morning. The loud incessant banging on the door had not only woken up my husband, but my daughter as well. I watched helplessly as she slid out of her tiny bed and ran to her bedroom door. Sliding it open she saw her sleep tousled father running down the steps and she quietly stepped down and sat at the very top of them holding her stuffed rabbit.

The glare of the revolving lights on the police car entered the house through the opened door and she buried her face into the rabbit's fur, trying to keep from looking at them.

I watched as confusion spread over my husbands face at the officer's request to come inside. He nodded slowly and stood aside, letting them enter our home. He asked them if there was a problem, why the un-usual hour and if there was a problem what was it.

The officers' explained it all in painstakingly slow banter; they tried their best to prepare him for what was coming, to prepare him for learning about the death of his wife.

When the truth was finally said there was no amount of preparation in the world that could prepare a loving husband for that news. I watched in complete horror as the realization of their words finally sank in, and he broke down. He didn't cry at first, he waited until the officers' left to do that. But once the door was shut behind him he covered his face with his hands and sobbed, the only woman that he felt would ever love him and understand him completely, was gone.

He slid down to the floor in a crumpled heap and bawled bordering on hysterics. And while all of this was going on, my little girl was sitting on the first step listening, for the first time in her life, to her father crying. It seemed like a small eternity before she drew up her courage and jerkily made her way down the steps to find her father on the floor. She kept a stern face, but her eyes were shining with worry.

"What's wrong daddy?" she asked, placing a hand on his head like he had done to her so many times before.

He jumped when he heard her tender voice and slowly looked up at her. His eyes were red rimmed and tears continued to stream down his face as he lied there looking at her.

"Risika" he said hoarsely, she smiled wearily upon hearing her name and sat beside him, letting her small hand fall into her lap.

"Daddy, what's wrong. Why are you crying?" she asked again softly "If something is making you sad daddy, mommy says that it helps when you tell someone because you feel better!" she said helpfully, her voice rising with excitement like only a child's voice can when talking about their parents.

He slowly sat up, using the door to rest his back against and patted the spot where he once laid, signaling to her to sit by him. She crawled over and sat looking up at her father with loving eyes. He swallowed at first and tried to look at her as he began speaking but he couldn't. Instead he settled on looking ahead of him, at a spot on our living room wall.

"Risika" he said slowly and took her small hand in his "do you remember where mommy is?"

She nodded happily and pointed up "She's at the Sohma hot spring, getting the rest she deserves! I remember because you told me daddy."

He stopped and I was crying. I thought that my decision would make their lives easier, not harder. No one needed me. My daughter would not be able to live a wonderful life if she had me stifling her. I was a bad friend a bad wife and a bad mother. No one needed me and they still don't. I'm sorry that I wasn't a good enough person to realize sooner that bringing a child into this family was a mistake. I'm sorry that I didn't stop, I'm sorry that I didn't say no. I'm sorry that I was…am in love with your father.

I'm sorry that you were born into a family that shuns its own members. A family that steals their ideals, thoughts, morals, and calls them taboo…a family who lives in fear of their next move.

I wanted it to look like an accident. I wanted them to think it occurred without motive, without an idea in hand. So all I had to do was revisit that one hot spring. The one that made my head swim and my vision blur.

I'm sorry my little girl, I truly am.


	2. Love Me Not

**Author's Note: **Hey all this is the second chapter, I hope you like it. This chapter is written from the father's point of view. I might change it periodically from the daughter to the father but I'll tell you when I do, so no worries. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fruits Basket or any characters from it (I wish I did) but I do own Risika, and she may not be used in a fanfiction, story, song fic, or any other forms of writing without my permission.

_**Love Me Not**_

**By: Priestessbaka**

My throat clenched as I looked at a spot on the living room wall. I couldn't tell her. I couldn't deliver the news that would shatter my daughter's world forever. I couldn't do it. So I prolonged the ordeal, I waited until the day of the funeral to tell her. Now looking back on it I regret my decision.

I told her after breakfast. She doesn't eat breakfast anymore. I told her that mommy was gone, that she was in a better place than here, but she didn't understand. She just cocked her head to the side and asked me what that meant. I told her that it was like mommy was sleeping, but she wouldn't wake up.

I didn't see tears until we arrived. I didn't ride in a black Limo like the others had. I just drove the car, just my daughter and I. When we had finally arrived at the funeral home, she ran out of the car before I could get a hold of her. I remember catching a glimpse of hope in her eyes before she slipped into the viewing. And the sound, or lack of it, that came from that room was worse than any other. I had been prepared for screaming, for tantrums, for where's my mommy. But she was silent, and so was everyone else.

Everyone was watching her as she made that walk down the aisle by herself, not even hinting that she wanted me by her side. We all watched as she approached the casket and stood there staring blankly at her mother's face.

I gasped as she reached up to touch her mother's cheek. She pulled back from the cold flesh and looked at her mother's still frozen features. She didn't talk for the entire day. While people were paying me their sympathy and condolences, she was sitting in a corner silent as her mother now was.

She wouldn't speak to anyone who addressed her, even after being offered candy and treats and trips to one of the many Sohma vacation houses, she would not say a word.

That night I didn't sleep and neither did she. She had not said a word in almost twenty four hours and I had stopped trying to coax her into talking to me around one. She was staring out the window watching as the heaven's opened and a torrent of rain pelted the windows. She was still in her funeral clothes, the only thing removed were her shoes which were discarded in a pile by the door.

I bit my lip and looked out the window along with her. I couldn't believe that she was gone. My Tohru was gone all because of a stupid hot spring. Before I knew it I was crying again, the tears almost as plentiful as the rain outside. It took me a while to realize that a box of tissues was on my lap and Risika had changed herself into her pajamas.

She was looking at me with that look that I knew so well. It was the same one her mother used to give me when she knew something was wrong. I wiped away my tears angrily and looked back out the window. She looked so much like her mother, even though she was still young, except for her eyes. Those were mine. It was strange to see my own eyes staring back at me, but not reflecting what I was feeling in any remote way.

Her eyes would shine with hope and a future, while I imagined mine were clouded and lifeless. Worn away by time, like a rock on the shore being beaten relentlessly by a powerful ocean. When I looked at her remembering everything her mother was she would smile at me and call me daddy but I wouldn't listen, I'd slip away into oblivion thinking of the woman that I had loved the most in this world.

By the time she was six she was used to my slipping in and out of reality. She would snap her fingers in front of my face when she needed to ask for something. She would tend to ask me for help with her homework, but when I would bring myself out of my dream state and actually help her, she understood the material perfectly. I now know that she did this just to get some time alone with me, just to spend some time with her father out of the mesmerized state I was constantly in.

I remember on her 7th birthday she was completely ecstatic. Her best friend Kiki had invited her to spend the night over her house as a birthday present. It would be the first slumber party for both girls and she couldn't get over it. Her party was over with and her present's lay upstairs in her bedroom, discarded and forgotten with this new turn of events. She was prepped and ready to go.

I had called Kiki's mother Katherine to tell her that I was ready to drop her off at anytime. But during the conversation one thing led to another and we had ended up on the topic of my wife. She paid me her condolences as many did, considering that the two year anniversary was coming that August. She said that if she could do anything to help she would and I thanked her for her kindness. She also said that she understood what I was going through, going on the fact that she was a single mother whose husband had cheated on her with his secretary. And that upset me. She continued on about how hard it was and I couldn't take it.

"You have no idea how hard it is!" I spat, I heard her gasp on the other side but I couldn't stop "You have no idea what its like to be here waking up every morning and knowing that the person you love with all your heart isn't at the grocery store, she isn't at the salon, she isn't with your child, she's dead! So don't you tell me about how hard it is, _I_ know how hard it is and you have no clue"

I hung up and turned around surprised that Risika was right behind me, standing in the doorframe of the kitchen.

"No sleepover?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head and sat down on the stool we had by the phone, running my hand over my face and through my hair. I heard her drag her sleeping bag across the dining room and up the stairs. Before she would have asked me why, but she was used to my sporadic outburst of anger and I felt sorry. No child should have to deal with that, especially from the person who was supposed to be her strength.

Everything from then on passed in a type of fog as she slowly grew older and I receded away into the corner of my life which I now reside. She wouldn't ask me for help anymore, or even acknowledge my presence. If at a rare occasion I actually tried to help her, she would abruptly say 'No!' and proceed to do it herself as I sat and watched my little girl drift farther and farther away from me.

At around the age of 15 was when I realized how far our gap had actually spread. I remember one day when I had called her into the den to ask her how school was. When she walked into the make shift office, I didn't recognize her.

Her hair was shorter, resting at her jaw line. The ends were cut jaggedly so the ends of the hair came to a point and she had dyed it jet black so in the right light it would shine with a blue glow. Her ears were pierced twice and she even had one in the cartilage on her right ear.

"What?" she asked, not defensively just curious.

"Your hair…why did you dye it?" I inquired

She shrugged and popped the chewing gum in her mouth "Brown was a boring color" she answered simply "besides, it brings out my eyes"

She was right, her eyes did seem even more vibrant than before. I swallowed and shook my head. She didn't look like her mother anymore; she didn't look anything like her. I now know that this was why she had done it. But then, at that moment, I couldn't take it.

"I don't like it" I told her "change it back to brown"

She stood in the doorframe and shifted her weight onto her right leg "No"

"Risika, don't play with me. Change it back to brown" I said sternly, but she just shook her head and walked out of the office completely. I had called after her but she didn't come back. A few minutes later I heard the front door slide open and then shut. I remember when she used to ask me if it was okay if she went somewhere, but she had stopped that habit a long time ago.

On her sixteenth birthday she hadn't come home until 3 in the morning. I hadn't slept a wink. I had stayed up calling family members and asking if they had seen her. Each one had the same answer as the last 'We haven't seen Risika in years'. I was surprised when even Momiji answered that way, when she was younger she wouldn't leave his side. I told him Thank you and that I would call if she showed up.

As I was about to call the police I heard the front door open and I raced to catch her. Her hair was tousled and she smelled so strongly of cigarettes that it almost made my head reel. Her eyes were wide as she was surprised to see me, but she quickly reverted back to that stone gaze that I was used to.

"You're up" she said flatly and took off her shoes in the process "I'm surprised"

I fixed a glare on her and stopped her from walking passed me and into the house "Of course I'm up, no note, no phone call. You had me worried sick, I had no idea where you were and now you stroll in here expecting me to just go to sleep and pretend nothing happened? Well you have another thing coming because-"

"Ohhh" she said, anger laced with her words "Now who wants to play dad?" She chuckled, causing her shoulders to shake. I opened my mouth to say something but she had silenced me with a glare.

"Don't think that just because you waited up to see if I was okay is going to even get you near to being a parent. I can take care of myself thank you, or have you forgotten that?" she sneered and pushed passed me with a half hearted 'Excuse me'. A minute later her bedroom door closed, with that tell tale thunk the house was still again.


	3. An Unwanted Wishing

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took so long for this chapter. Every time I would sit down at my computer and start writing somebody would always need my help with something or a friend would call and ask if I wanted to hang out. Why is it whenever I want to write Life just starts to kick in. Anyway, this is from the father's point of view again, I decided that I am going to keep it that way for the entirety of the story Now the reason that this chapter is so short is because I am going to reveal who the father is in the next chapter. It was originally going to be in this chapter but I thought that it would be a little too dramatic, don't ask me why just thought it would. SO, I hope you enjoy and please review.

**Disclaimer: **I dun't oun Fwutz Bazkit. (Cracks up sorry I just felt like typing my disclaimer like that)

_**Love Me Not**_

**By: Priestessbaka**

**_An Unwanted Wishing_ **

Today was the day. Today was her birthday, the day that I had become a father. The day that I had always dreaded the most.

I always felt that her birthday was just another painful reminder of the father that I had never been; another way of just deepening the wound that had already been inflicted again and again and again.

I was up earlier than usual, I could tell by the sunlight outside the window, or at least the lack of it. I rolled over and saw the electronic numbers on my clock saying '6:12, 6:12!' I sighed and passed a hand over my face. I hadn't slept at all the night before and by now it looked as if I would be staying up all day without an ounce of rest. I stood staring at the clock for a few seconds before rolling over into my previous position and deciding to stay there.

I wasn't even sure if I wanted to get out of bed. I knew that she didn't want a glimpse of me, especially today. Not on her seventeenth birthday. I groaned thinking about the fight that we had had yesterday night.

The cigarette stench that had once saturated her clothes was gone, the hair had grown out, the natural color replaced and the clothes had returned to an acceptable status. She had gone back to her old self, or at least what little remnants I could remember from her old self. She was coming home at 10 each night and was in bed, at the latest, by 12:30. She did her homework, Aced her tests and from what I understood was the most sought after girl in school. I was, am, very proud of her but I couldn't tell her that, not then.

The fight had started with the usual, my asking of a question and her typical rebuttal of why I even cared. But the only thing was that this time I was the one who started to scream, not her. I screamed at her about how she shouldn't be hanging out too late and especially with a boy. I screamed at her about the 'what if's' and 'what could have's.

And throughout the entire unnecessary scolding she stared at me while I yelled, with that stone hard gaze of hers. I knew that even though she didn't seem like she was listening to me, she was. I knew because I used to do the same thing. That was when I stopped. I had stopped in mid-sentence and let my shoulders fall.

I left her standing in the entrance hall perturbed and bewildered but at that moment I didn't care. I hated that I had yelled at her and I was sorry, but I was scared to tell her that. It had been such a long time since I had done it. I had gone from always hearing and saying apologies to not even being able to form the proper words.

I went to bed entirely confused about my one and only daughter and stood that way the entire night. I lied in bed thinking of the times that had flown passed me without even as much as a fleeting glance in return. The birthdays, the dances, those once in a life time moments that I could never get back, or give back for that matter.

By the time I was done reminiscing it was seven and I listened as she slid open her bedroom door and made her way downstairs. A few minutes later the smell of French vanilla coffee, her favorite flavor, wafted through the air. I debated whether I should just get out of bed and forget about what she thought, but I couldn't. So I waited until I just couldn't anymore. If I waited any longer I wouldn't leave the room for the entire day, not that she would have much of a problem with that, but I wanted to wish her a happy birthday.

Even if she retorted with a snippy come-back I wanted her to know that I did remember. That it was the one thing that I never truly forgot.

I clamored out of bed and patted down my tousled hair. I slipped into a dress shirt and pulled on some slacks, quickly brushed my teeth and went downstairs.

She was sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen, reading a book that I wasn't at all familiar with. I stood watching her for a few seconds, watching her face with a serene expression on it, something that I hadn't seen in quite a while.

"You know, you think you're so quite"

I jumped from surprise and straightened up. She slowly took her eyes from her page and looked at me. I glanced down as usual, away from her prying and questioning eyes. I heard her scoff and slide off the island. She noisily put down her book and made her way to the coffee maker.

"Would you like some?" she half heartedly asked.

I shook my head and quickly realized she couldn't see me "No, thank you" I mumbled, my voice hoarse from the lack of use for the passed nine hours.

"Listen, I need a ride down to the thrift shop" she said over her steaming cup of coffee.

"Why?" I questioned. She never asked me for rides to anywhere.

"I have to drop something off. I don't want it, it just takes up space."

"What is it?" I looked at her bowed head. She shrugged and gently put her coffee cup down on the counter. Her hands slid across the edge of the marble counter until her arms were a small distance from her body and she placed one leg over the other.

God, she was so much like her mother when she was young. But the more she grew, the more she reminded me of myself. I didn't want it; I couldn't lose Tohru again, not a second time.

"Don't stand like that" I told her. She shifted but didn't change her stance.

"Why?" she asked and looked at me, being careful not to meet my eyes.

"Just don't" I whispered, lowering my head.

I heard her sigh and I raised my head. She was standing with her arms across her chest. She was looking at the floor and tapping her foot.

"I guess that mom-"

"Happy Birthday" I quickly interjected.

She stopped and I saw that her body went rigged. She licked her lips and pulled on her shirt sleeve. She stood that way a while and I waited.

"Thanks" she said cautiously and nodded "Yeah" she whispered "Thanks".

Yes, this was progress. I hadn't heard her so relieved in a while. I stepped forward and cleared my throat.

"I was wondering that maybe after I take you to the thrift shop we can maybe stop by for some ice cream or som-"

"Don't think that just because you wished me a happy birthday that that's going to change everything" she hissed.

And just like that what little we had gained, we had lost…again.


	4. A Second Chance

**Author's Note: **Okay I know that I said I was going to reveal the father's name in this chapter, but I changed my mind. Sorry, I promise that it is in the next chapter, Pinky Swear! And now that we are on the topic of the next chapter, the next chapter is going to be the last chapter. I know that that is going to make it a very short story but I didn't want to drag it out too long. If I get enough reviews saying that they want the story longer I might consider adding more to it, but for now that's all she wrote. Well, Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fruits Basket or any of the characters within it, but Risika is mine.

_**Love Me Not **_

**By: Priestessbaka**

**A Second Chance**

At twelve I went upstairs to get her fromher room as she instructed. I knocked before slowly sliding open the door.

"Ready?" I asked quietly.

"Just a sec" she answered and put a box on her desk. Curiosity getting the best of me I walked inside the room and peeked inside the box. What was in it made my heart squeeze painfully. She couldn't have been serious. She couldn't have been getting rid of this. I picked up one of the hand painted figurines and turned it around in my hand. I flipped it over and saw 'Shigure' written neatly across the bottom.

I put the tiny glass dog back in its place and ran my finger across the animals until I noticed one was missing.

"Risika, there's one missing" I told her.

"I know" she said and emerged from her closet "It's this one"

She held up a tiny velvet drawstring bag, the kind that you might put a pair of earrings in if they were a gift. She opened the tiny sack and tipped it over so the contents would land safely in the palm of her hand. She was right, it was the one that was missing.

"Why isn't it here with the rest?" I asked truly confused.

She looked at me with an expression that I couldn't read and then shook her head and put the tiny figurine in the box.

"Do you really have to ask?" she sighed. I didn't answer, instead picked up the box and carried it into the hall way.

"You don't have to carry it, I can do it" I heard her say behind me, but I ignored her. I continued down to the storage closet by the steps and gently placed the box on the top shelf.

"What are you doing?"

"You might want to bring it back out later" I told her and gently shut the door.

She was quiet for a few seconds like she was mentally dissembling the entire interaction piece by piece. Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head.

"No. No, I want to sell it. I'm not going to bring it out later, I don't _want _to bring it out later" she said evenly.

But I refused to let her get to the closet. I didn't want her to make a mistake, as if I of all people knew when a mistake was being made.

"You're just a little angry from the argument we had last night. You'll get over it. You aren't selling it and that's that" I told her.

She was flustered by now, her eyes had narrowed and she was looking at me defiantly.

"Please" she stressed the word "I know what I'm doing, give me the box"

"No, you don't. Now go to your room. You're mother would have never gotten rid of something so precious to the family." I notified her.

She laughed, a bitter sound that fell heavily between us. I shifted in my spot but stood strong against the wooden door. She was looking at the spot in front of my feet, standing motionless.

"Mom's dead" she said

I jerked from the pure shock of the statement. Her words echoed in my head over and over again, each one louder than the next. Mom's dead.

We didn't move, the seconds ticked passed and we stood there not saying a word, a twelve year truth ringing clearer and louder than ever before. My eyes closed and my head lowered so my chin was almost resting against my chest. She was right, Tohru was dead, but I couldn't let go, not then not ever, I couldn't let go of my life line.

"She's dead" she said quietly "and she isn't coming back. I know that you miss her, I miss her too. But you need to stop trying to make me a replica of mom! You need to realize that you have a daughter and that she needs you just as much as you need her."

"But you look so much like your mother-"

"Stop It." she hissed "I am Risika Sohma, not Tohru. I will never be her and you need to accept that"

As she continued her voice rose and I just drew into myself more and more. It wasn't true, yes, she was my little girl, not Tohru, but she couldn't be saying this. She couldn't leave me without help, without something to save me from this abyss that I had fallen into. I had drowned her out with my incoming thoughts but was quickly brought back as her fingers curled against my chin and my head jerked up-right.

"Look at me!" she cried "Look at me…"

It was the first time since Tohru had left us that I had actually looked at my daughter. My eyes finally meeting hers and at that moment, her entire life rushed passed my eyes. The laughter of a five year old, the confusion of an eight year old, the awkward smile of a thirteen year old, the stages of growing into a woman. I had been there for all of them, but as a passerby.

She was studying me now, the father that had never been there for her and I was afraid. What if she decided that this whole interaction was a mistake, what if she realized that maybe it was too late to save me, and she would have to make her journey through life forever alone without a mother, or a father.

As I studied the eyes that I never met I recognized that emotion that I was dreading, Loss. I went to pull her hand off my chin when I heard something that I hadn't heard in quite sometime.

"Hey dad"

I froze my hand still on her wrist. She had called me a name that I hadn't heard in years and I couldn't believe it. She did want to try, she was willing to give me a second chance to reconcile. She wanted me as her father.


	5. Renewed Affections

**Author's Note: **Sorry this took so long. For some odd reason wasn't letting my upload anything. Anyway, I had had this done for a while but couldn't upload. As I said before, this is the last chapter. I hope you Enjoy R and R please!

**Disclaimer:...you know**

_**Love Me Not **_

**By: Priestessbaka**

**Renewed Affections**

…2 Months Later…

"No, No, No, you do it like this!" she cried with laughter in her voice. She stepped onto the pad and showed me the proper way of dancing.

"You have to match the arrows with your steps on the pad. Just get the beat" she instructed "Feel the rhythm"

"Right" I said, running my hand through my hair "and what's this game called again?"

"Dance Dance Revolution" she said, jumping into the air and stepping on two arrows simultaneously.

I watched as she jumped along to the beat and shook my head. I was never going to understand this.

"C'mon pops, I thought this was part of the deal. I take martial arts, I get to watch you embarrass yourself on this dance pad" she joked.

I laughed and stood on the pad next to hers as she selected the next song. She chose one called 'Look to the Sky' and I arched a brow.

"Why do they all have weird names?"

"They are not weird!" she cried "Now shh, and listen to the beat"

"You chose a hard one didn't you?" I asked and she shrugged.

"Hard for you maybe" she scoffed.

"Are you saying that I won't be able to this?" I inquired.

"Yeah I am" she laughed.

"Twenty bucks and it's a bet" I said.

"What kind of father would bet his daughter!"

"If you think you'll lose-"

"You're on"

Unfortunately our little discussion took a little too long so we had to restart the song but with new resolve in our hearts. And to my dismay I ended up giving my daughter twenty bucks do to the fact that I apparently have no rhythm what-so-ever.

"Ah, this new years I'm gonna brag about how I, Risika Sohma, beat the un-beatable Yuki Sohma at a simple game of DDR"

"Oh the shame" I sighed and ruffled her hair. She smiled and pulled her head away walking towards the exit of the arcade. I followed but had to stop short due to a little girl running past pulling her father along behind her.

"Sorry" he apologized sheepishly. I smiled and shook my head signaling that it was all right. But even as they made their way through the crowd I watched them and felt a pang of guilt that I would never be able to have her that young again. I had lost my chance. I shook my head and walked towards the exit where Risika was waiting.

We would have stayed at the arcade longer but we had a previous engagement that we had to attend to. Her boyfriend had finally allowed his parents to set up a dinner so we could all finally meet and figure each other out. I thought that it was a fabulous idea, but Risika thought otherwise. Which is why I suggested the arcade, it would get the dinner off her mind, while we were there anyway.

Unfortunately though as we settled in the car she was already twisting and turning her fingers and hands in all sorts of impossible contortions. I sighed and pulled out of the parking lot.

"It's going to be fine" I told her reassuringly, she nodded in response and looked out her window. My words hadn't calmed her by much but she had stopped fiddling with her fingers.

"Do you remember when you first tried to teach me how to pronounce your name?" she blurted out suddenly. My brows furrowed at the unusual question, what a strange memory to bring up.

"Yeah" I answered "And instead of saying it right you said Yucky"

At this she burst out into laughter and nodded enthusiastically. She laughed until she ran out of air and slowly let it die in her throat. When she was finished I was about to ask why she wanted to know, but she beat me to it.

"I don't know why that memory kept popping into my head" she chuckled.

"You're mother thought it was the funniest thing in the world" I said.

"Really?"

I nodded and chuckled a bit myself "No matter how many times I tried to tell you that it was pronounced like You-Key you never got it until you were older"

"I should pick it up again" she joked.

We sat in a comfortable silence the rest of the ride. The conversation had seemed to do the trick and I was happy that I was of some help. When we arrived at our destination I parked and got out of the car. Risika followed suit and we both stood at the base of a very large stair case.

"How many times have you walked up this thing?" I questioned.

She shrugged and shook her head "I dunno, twice I think" and with that she started up the steps. I stood rooted to my spot and watched as she slowly made her way up the steps on her own. She had come this far on her own and she could continue on her own, so what made her want me along for the ride? I shrugged at the thought, I'd have to ask her later.

As I continued watching her I realized that we still had a long way to go as far as patching things up were concerned. We still were awkward when certain topics arose and sometimes we would argue over nothing at all. I felt she was too outgoing and she told me that I lived like a hermit. We weren't even close to being the ideal family, but at least we were trying.

"Dad!" she called. I jerked and looked up at her. She was half way up the steps already and I hadn't even started yet.

"C'mon" she smiled and held out her hand.

I looked at her outstretched arm and smiled back, I didn't have to ask her, I already knew why she wanted me along with her, I'm her dad. I walked up the steps and took her reaching hand in mine.

She smiled again "Not nervous are ya?"

"Never"

And with that, we walked up the rest of the way, her a step ahead of me with me right behind her. I could definitely get used to being a father again.


End file.
